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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25233022">Fond Hearts</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/scaramouche/pseuds/Annie%20D'>Annie D (scaramouche)</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Marvel Cinematic Universe</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Avengers Tower, First Kiss, Fluff, Happy Ending, Intimacy, M/M, Mild Angst, Pining, Schmoop, Tony POV</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-07-13</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-07-13</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-05 03:08:33</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>4,188</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25233022</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/scaramouche/pseuds/Annie%20D</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Written for a prompt: "Pining!Tony confesses to Steve, and Steve rejects him, but after a misunderstanding, Steve becomes jealous."</p><p>This is <em>kind of</em> that, but slightly sideways.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Steve Rogers/Tony Stark</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>214</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>1586</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>Scaramouche's Bite-Sized Prompt Ficlets</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Fond Hearts</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Tony’s aware, in a haphazard way, that he tends to organize the people of the world into four categories: strangers, acquaintances, fond acquaintances, and ride-or-die. It’s a slippery slope that’s damn near vertical, and he often doesn’t realize when someone is on said vertical trajectory until they’re well and firmly locked in. It starts with a cool ‘hi how are you’, and if there enough positive steps in a row he becomes an oversharing, embarrassing mess with poor boundaries. It happened with Rhodey, Happy, Pepper, Bruce. A mere handful of cases, but enough to make the pattern clear.</p><p>In Tony’s defense, he could not have predicted that this would happen with Steve Rogers, too. At the get go, it was obvious that Steve was never going to amount to much more in Tony’s life other than being That Guy With The Shield whom Tony sometimes works and fights with (and fights <em>with</em>). But Tony’s baggage has done him wrong before, and so it did again here.</p><p>Apparently, sharing enough high-stress situations – most of them <em>not</em> on the battlefield – and coming out with shared victories makes for decent bedfellows. It’s the non-battlefield scenarios in particular that stand out – Steve and his poker-faced sarcasm having Tony’s back against Fury and Hill, against SHIELD, against the press – and it endears, what can he say?</p><p>So it is that some months after the band’s back together, Tony finds himself having dinner with Steve in the tower, just the two of them, and this is perfectly normal. More than that, it’s positively outstanding, because although they only have a box of pizza and a laptop in front of them for entertainment, Tony feels more content and rejuvenated than he’s been all day. All week, even. Maybe more?</p><p>“I know better than anyone else that expectations and what counts as ‘normal’ changes with time,” Steve’s saying heatedly between his bites of pizza. “It isn’t even a case of looking backward before looking forward, if it’s coming down to definitions.”</p><p>“U-huh.” There are a few more slices left, and Tony may help himself to one of them once there’s more room in his stomach.  He’s more preoccupied with resting his head against his propped-up hand and watching Steve work himself into a tizzy. “That’s a whole lot of words to justify pineapple on pizza.”</p><p>“It’s not justification. It’s merely a request that <em>someone</em>,” Steve says meaningfully, “acknowledge that tastebuds differ, and it’s rude to pick on an old man for liking what he likes.”</p><p>“If you get to milk that ‘old man’ line forever, does that mean <em>I </em>get to the milk your ‘big, ugly building’ line forever?”</p><p>Steve sighs. “I think I’d rather talk about the pineapple.”</p><p>“You would.”</p><p>“It’s just a really nice burst of flavor on top, all right?” Steve proves it by picking another slice from the box which he then loads with pineapple pieces – scavenged from Tony’s eaten slices – on top. He frowns at Tony’s empty plate. “Are you done? You usually have more.”</p><p>“Working my way up.”</p><p>Steve nods, though there’s a glint in his eye that portends the immediate slowing of his eating speed so that Tony can catch up if he wants to. It’s unnecessary, but then again many things are unnecessary – including this dinner, for Tony could be in the workshop and Steve could be with someone who doesn’t critique his tastes. But they’re here because unnecessary isn’t the same as unwanted.</p><p>A thought lands neatly in the forefront of Tony’s brain, as though slotting into a perfectly-formed space that he’d been carving out for it. Steve’s resumed his speech about combinations of sweet vs. savory and how maybe his culinary tastes are equivalent to Tony’s preference for melodramatic color combinations; there <em>is</em> an opening here if Tony wanted to jump in with a rejoinder, but all Tony can think of is:<em> Steve’s really something. </em></p><p>Tony really enjoys hanging out with him, and wants to do more of it, but also <em>more</em> of it. Steve’s funny and sweet and fascinating, and Tony wants to brush his thumb against the furrow that appears between Steve’s eyebrows when he gets worked up.</p><p>“You seeing anyone?” Tony finds himself saying.</p><p>Steve blinks, visibly irritated at having his train of thought derailed. “What’s that got to do peanut butter and jelly on sourdough?”</p><p>“Absolutely nothing, but I’m asking anyway. You’re not, right?”</p><p>“Last I checked.”</p><p>“Do you want to?”</p><p>“I swear, if you’ve teamed up with Natasha—”</p><p>“Because I have a suggestion, and it’s me.” Tony’s barely moved from his position, his head still set lazily against his arm, though as soon as he’s completed that sentence his heartbeat decides to pick up double-time. “If you wanna, with me. Throwing it out there.”</p><p>“Oh. Did you mean, me and you like, like <em>that</em>—?”</p><p>Tony did not think this one through, or at all, really. It seemed reasonable and low-stakes as he said it – he felt a flicker of want, and recognized it for what it was, and expressed that want in actual words – but as Steve’s face twitches awkwardly, Tony remembers that sometimes it’s better to let ideas percolate before pursuing them. Even so, it <em>made sense</em>, because he likes Steve, and Steve’s fun to be around, and Steve has a very nice butt that Tony’s thought about touching one or twice or a hundred times.</p><p>But there’s no mistaking Steve’s anxious grimace.</p><p>“Steve,” Tony says, “it’s fine. Don’t worry about it.”</p><p>“I <em>do</em> like you,” Steve insists. “A great deal. I hope you know that.”</p><p>It’s weird how Tony’s chest blooms with warmth, while at the same time his stomach drops in disappointment. “I do.”</p><p>“It’s just, I—I’m not…”</p><p>Not into men, or not interested in Tony; the end result is the same. If Tony’s turned out to be more invested in Steve’s answer than he thought, then that’s his own problem. Tony says quickly, “Hey, it’s not a big deal. I speak without thinking sometimes, you know that.”</p><p>“Tony—”</p><p>“It’s just an idea that popped into my head, and not all my ideas have to go somewhere. You told me that yourself.”</p><p>“Did I?”</p><p>“Yeah, when I suggested making a snow-themed variant of your tactical suit. Which in my opinion <em>is</em> a good idea, by the way.” Tony feels a flash of a completely different kind of unease when Steve droops guiltily. “None of that, pineapple-eating old man. You didn’t do anything wrong, and <em>I</em> didn’t do anything wrong. We agreed on that?”</p><p>Steve meets Tony’s gaze, and whatever he sees – determination, hopefully – has him nodding slowly. “Yeah, that works for me.”</p><p>“Good,” Tony says firmly. “Wait, what peanut butter and jelly on <em>sourdough</em>? What?”</p><p> </p><p>+</p><p> </p><p>It’s only in retrospect that Tony realizes that the urge to ask Steve out didn’t come from nowhere. The progression of their friendship has been happening in tandem with <em>another </em>kind of progression. Tony likes Steve, and merely didn’t realize that he also <em>liked</em> Steve, i.e. that the flush of excitement he got every single time Steve wanted to hang out, or laughed at one of Tony’s jokes, or just smiled in his direction – that wasn’t just him being glad that Steve thought he was cool now.</p><p>Hence, it’s only right that Tony identify and recognize the boundaries he’d been barreled through and nudge them back into appropriate platonic place. Do some course-correction, as it were. This has the added bonus of making sure that Steve doesn’t feel self-conscious or get worried that Tony’s projecting anything on him (which he isn’t).</p><p>The day after the dinner of Tony’s faux pas, and the rest of the Avengers are back in the tower, Steve makes no mention of what happened. In fact, it’s as though nothing’s changed at all – Steve’s still at ease with Tony, still teasing and irritable and calculating, and that’s the best Tony could have hoped for. Tony needs only return the favor and not put Steve on the backfoot again.</p><p>That should be easy, except Tony quickly realizes during team lunch that it’s something that needs conscious work. Everyone’s at the dining table and Tony’s in his usual seat next to Steve because there’s no avoiding that, but he <em>should </em>avoid other things.</p><p>After all, he’d accidentally developed a thing for Steve (a nebulous, fanciful thing, and nothing at all to be concerned about, and he’s not even disappointed anymore, really) which informed the way he’s been interacting with Steve. He cannot accidentally undo it, or accidentally make Steve forget about it. But he <em>can </em>consciously show that he does, too, know how platonic friends work, and prove it to Steve so he knows that there’s nothing to worry about.</p><p>This means that, over lunch, whenever he’d usually lean towards Steve, Tony now refrains. Oh, the conversation continues as normal, with everyone having an opinion or a dozen of them, but Tony pays more attention to where he slips in and whose side he takes, and doesn’t bump his elbow against Steve’s arm at any point.</p><p>In fact, when Tony gets the usual urge to steal something off Steve’s plate, he snags it from Clint’s plate instead, prompting a snippy, “Get your own carrots, Stark!”</p><p>“Bruce keeps giving you the nice ones,” Tony responds. “I’m just evening out the playing field.”</p><p>Judging from Steve’s slightly confused looks, Tony’s efforts might be a little clumsy, but he has to start somewhere. He’s sure he’ll get better at it, until it’s second nature and he’s no longer weird or inappropriate with Steve at all. In the balance of it, Tony must admit that he’s pleased with himself because he didn’t brush his knee against Steve’s even <em>once</em>.</p><p> </p><p>+</p><p> </p><p>It’s a balancing act, of course. Steve cannot be made to feel as though he’s lost Tony’s goodwill by turning him down, because that would be fucking awful. Steve not wanting him is no one’s fault, and any energy Tony might have spent in trying to figure out why Steve turned him down (is he too loud, too flashy, too much questionable sexual history to contend with?) is better spent being a good friend. The goodest friend he can be, because that is how much Steve means to him.</p><p>On next movie night, which is at Thor’s behest, Tony gets there a little earlier than the agreed time. Bruce and Steve are gathering snacks in the kitchen, so Tony trots over to the two-seater that Natasha’s already sitting in and slides into the empty space next to her. He is very cool and nonchalant about it, too, if he does say so himself.</p><p>“What?” Tony grabs a handful of popcorn from the bowl in Natasha’s lap. “I want the popcorn.”</p><p>“Right,” Natasha says.</p><p>“I got the—” Steve trails off as he and Bruce enter the living room.</p><p>“Have you already started playing?” Bruce says. “Why didn’t you wait for us?”</p><p>“Non-skippable commercials are the doings of Hel,” Thor declares.</p><p>“Did you get my smoothie from the fridge?” Tony calls out. He lifts a hand over his head, and waits until Steve puts it into his palm. “Excellent service, my good man.”</p><p>“Thanks, don’t forget to leave us a good review,” Steve says. He takes the couch, where he and Thor sandwich Bruce, while Clint’s on the beanbag. It’s not as if there are <em>nametags</em> on all of the seats, and they change it up all the time anyway. Tony bets that no one, except maybe Natasha, even notices that Tony’s not sitting next to Steve for once. (Good gravy, does he really sit next to Steve <em>all the time</em>?)</p><p>“That fully depends on how well you treat me for the rest of the night,” Tony says. Sure, it’s somewhat unwieldy to have to talk over Natasha to reach Steve, but it’s a minor thing.</p><p> </p><p>+</p><p> </p><p>Their next mission goes wrong – not <em>very</em> wrong, just mildly wrong, though any casualties at all are too many for comfort.</p><p>They’re in the Quinjet, and almost everyone’s subdued as they make their way back to the Tower. Tony’s in his suit, and Steve shouldn’t be able to tell at all – not via his modulated voice, and definitely not from his face, since he has the helmet on – but he comes up to Tony, voice pitched low.</p><p>“I made a bad call, I’m sorry,” Steve says.</p><p>“It’s fine,” Tony says. “You didn’t have all the info. We’ll figure it out.”</p><p>“May I see your face, please?”</p><p>Tony obliges, even though he shouldn’t. The faceplate goes up, so instead of having to see Steve’s face via the HUD, he has to see Steve as he is, eyes worried and somber.</p><p>“How’re you feeling?” Steve says.</p><p>“Tired,” Tony says.</p><p>“I’d appreciate it if you could get out of the suit and sit down. If you don’t mind?” Steve says this carefully, as though he knows how shaken Tony is, and would perfectly understand it if Tony says no. That Steve would know him well enough for this, and of Tony’s own issues about going underwater in the suit, shakes him, too, though in different way.</p><p>See, Tony’s been a goddamned champion about this. Previously he hadn’t picked up on how much he’s been pushing into Steve’s space and time, demanding more than his fair share of both. Yes, Tony is a needy bastard, but he doesn’t mean to be, and it’s only because Steve’s been so accommodating and agreeable that Tony developed a crush on him in the first place.</p><p>But once Tony <em>understood</em>, he could pull back and see that Steve is just… Steve. He cares about everyone, and spends time with everyone, and it’s only Tony’s feverish mind that clasped onto that and decided that what he had wasn’t enough. Steve’s talking to him now because he’s a good friend and a good captain, and any urge Tony has to bury his face in Steve’s neck and breathe him in is just plain unfair to the guy. If Tony had only paid attention, he would’ve seen immediately that he never had a chance, and that what felt like a good idea at the time was actually a full-blown dud, dead in the water.</p><p>Tony’s eye should have stayed on the miracle that is their friendship. Steve’s concern is in itself a warm, comforting blanket – Tony looks at Steve’s steady gaze, and knows that he’ll be okay.</p><p>“All right,” Tony says.</p><p>Steve smiles, small and pleased. (More than a crush, Tony thinks. Dammit, that's gonna need extra work.) Steve gestures at the bench by the bulkhead, and turns to talk to Natasha and Clint in the cockpit.</p><p>There’s plenty of space to sit, but the stretch of emptiness makes him twitchy. He moves further down.</p><p>“Can I sit here?” Tony says. “Just for a minute.”</p><p>“Of course,” Thor says. “You may sit for as long as you like.”</p><p>Tony’s knees are only a little shaky as he steps out of the suit. He collapses onto the bench and tucks himself up by Thor’s side, the physical contact a relief after the eerie extra isolation of being in the suit underwater. Tony’s pretty sure that Thor won’t mind if he leans against him a little, his head pressed against Thor’s shoulder, so he does just that.</p><p>Thor hums and adjusts himself so Tony will be more comfortable. Permission granted, Tony closes his eyes and takes quiet, even breaths. His brain briefly pretends that it’s Steve instead of Thor, because he’s just weak that way, though that illusion is shattered when he opens his eyes and Steve’s standing across from them. Steve’s turned away, though he looks back at Tony, relieved but also something else. Sheepish?</p><p>There’s so much <em>space </em>between them. Tony could be over there, where Steve could make other earnest attempts to make him feel less rattled. Tony almost asks Steve to come over onto their side but that would defeat the purpose, and anyway Steve could come here all by himself if he wanted, which he clearly doesn’t. It was always Tony who’d reached out to him, claiming more and more of Steve, who merely indulged him.</p><p>Tony closes his eyes again and waits for the Quinjet to land.</p><p>God, all this yearning is getting really tiring.</p><p> </p><p>+</p><p> </p><p>All right, maybe it hasn’t become second nature yet. Weeks on, Tony still needs to check himself, divide his time between his teammates, not bother Steve too much, and <em>definitely</em> not pat Steve’s abs at every possible opportunity (once every so often is okay, right? Tony will save it for a special occasion).</p><p>Tony has a close call during Bruce’s birthday party, where they have other friends over for the Tower and good vibes all the way into the night that, unfortunately, lower Tony’s defenses a smidge.</p><p>There’s a cake and candles, and Bruce makes a hearty attempt to blow all of them out at once. Bruce succeeds to enthusiastic cheers, and Thor demands that they take a group photo to commemorate it.</p><p>Tony’s in the middle of explaining to Thor that people have been taking photos all evening so that’s not actually a problem, when Steve sidles up to him, saying, “Let’s just take the photo.”</p><p>Steve’s hand lands on Tony’s lower back, as heavy as a brand, and slides across to Tony’s waist to tug him close, and it’s only a miracle that Tony doesn’t spontaneously combust.</p><p>It’s too much, but when Tony tries to inch in the other direction he’s bottled in by Bruce and Thor, while Clint and Natasha squeeze their way to the front. Steve has one arm stretched out in front of him, his phone held up to take a group shot – as if there aren’t a dozen other people who could take it for them – though all Tony can focus on is that Steve’s pressed up <em>against him</em>, warm and solid and smelling of calm masculinity.</p><p>“Smile, everyone,” Steve says, using only a touch of his Cap voice. “Say: green.”</p><p>Bruce groans, while everyone else cheerfully obeys the order.</p><p>Tony, for his part, hopes that he’s smiling, and not grimacing or something else equally terrible. Good friends don’t get discombobulated by innocent bodily contact, after all. There are absolutely no tingles where Clint and the others boxed him in. It’s just Steve, always just Steve; and it’s only just Tony who’s continuing to fail.</p><p>It should be getting easier by now, he knows. But the abstinence-ish effect persists, i.e. deliberately plugging in the extra platonic space has just made him want to erase that space entirely and with stronger vehemence than before. He’s no longer imaging the bounce of Steve’s butt against his hand, or what it’d be like to rub his nose against the middle of Steve’s chest. He’s been imagining Steve wrapped around him in bed, his chin propped onto Tony’s shoulder as they like, <em>talk</em>.</p><p>Tony is so flustered when the others peel away that he turns to Bruce, overexcited and compensating as he grabs Bruce’s shoulders. “Birthday boy, gotta thank you for the great night.”</p><p>“Didn’t do much, besides getting born—” Bruce is cut off when Tony kisses him squarely on the mouth, “—on this day.” Bruce squints at him, bemused.</p><p>“Excuses,” Tony says, patting Bruce’s arms, a tad frantically. “Can’t have a party without a great VVIP. Hey, who’s cutting the cake? Nobody let Thor cut the cake.”</p><p>It’s a little difficult to look Steve in the eye for the rest of the night, but Tony will make up for it later. He’s sure of it.</p><p> </p><p>+</p><p> </p><p>It’s definitely not working out as well as he thought it would. Tony’s trying to be a responsible adult who respects people’s boundaries, and he’s pretty sure responsible, respectful adults don’t moon over something as simple as their crush’s <em>name</em>. Because Tony is looking at his cellphone, and keeps scrolling away and back to Steve’s contact details, and feeling in a very mooning-ish kind of mood.</p><p>Feelings are supposed to fade, don’t they? Especially when it comes to someone as awesome as Steve, who is very reasonable in his not being interested in Tony, and of whom there are a thousand and one ways that any attempt to be more than friends would crash and burn. There’s also the very pertinent fact that Steve <em>just isn’t into him,</em> and good people <em>don’t</em> creep on uninterested parties. Tony wants to be a good person, so badly.</p><p>But Tony’s not a good person yet. Instead, he’s a person whose heart now leaps at the mere entrance of Steve into the room, and whose breathing gets progressively more stilted as Steve makes a beeline right for him.</p><p>“What are you doing?” Steve says.</p><p>Tony turns his cellphone screen away so Steve can’t see it. “Felt like having Greek for lunch.”</p><p>“Can I come?”</p><p>“Oh, sure.”</p><p>“I’m not intruding, am I?”</p><p>“Nah, I was just—” looking through his contacts to see who he could invite along, and it can’t be Steve because they already had lunch together two days ago, “—browsing places to check out.”</p><p>“Okay.” Steve is looking extra handsome today, even with the mild scowl. Or maybe that’s just Tony’s bias speaking. “Tony, I think we should talk.”</p><p>“It was Clint’s idea,” Tony says, though he knows from Steve’s tone that the topic is something far, far worse. “I told him that it wouldn’t work at that distance—”</p><p>“I don’t think you’re punishing me, but it feels that way sometimes.” Steve nods at Tony’s quiet inhale. The worst part is how Steve doesn’t look or sound hurt, but there’s still something in his eye, and how determined he is to hold Tony’s gaze that makes Tony’s stomach sink. “Talk me through it. Help me understand.”</p><p>“No, it’s, just, I only want to… uh.” Tony swallows. “It’s not you, or anything you did. It’s me, it’s all on me and my, uh… I’ve been inappropriate, I get it now. I don’t want you to be uncomfortable.”</p><p>“I’m.” Steve pauses, gathering himself. “I’m not uncomfortable. I’ve never been uncomfortable with you, not for a long time. In fact, I’d say that right now I just miss you.”</p><p>“Sorry,” Tony says weakly. “Just let me get over you first, okay?”</p><p>“What if I don’t want you to?”</p><p>“Wow, that’s mean.”</p><p>Steve blinks. “What?”</p><p>“You want me to pine over you forever? I can tell you that it’s been <em>exhausting</em> so far, and I’d really rather not.”</p><p>“Geez.” Steve smiles suddenly, the motion softening his face in horrifying fondness, which makes Tony weak in the knees. “I <em>meant</em> that I like you, too, Tony. And I want… all of it.”</p><p>“Well.” Tony flounders. He’s spent all this time trying to come to terms with Steve’s very sensible non-interest, so why does Steve have to go and be non-sensible and throw all that work into the wind? “You said that you were not interested. You said so. That doesn’t just change like <em>that</em>.”</p><p>“I didn’t say that I wasn’t interested,” Steve says patiently. “I wasn’t <em>ready</em>. I’m ready now.”</p><p>“Uh. You’re only saying this because I’m being weird and distant, and you want to me to <em>not</em> be weird and distant?”</p><p>“No, I’m saying this because I’ve had time to think about it, and what I want. Turns out, I want everything – and not just what we had before, but…” Color rises in Steve’s cheeks, most fetchingly. “Everything else, and everything we can be. That was the offer on the table before, right?”</p><p>“Yeah,” Tony says weakly.</p><p>“Is it still there now?”</p><p>“I have no fucking idea, to be honest.”</p><p>Steve tilts his head a little, speculative. He starts to approach, but seems to think better of it when Tony tenses up. Again, there’s no resigned disappointment to be read in that calm pokerface of his, but Tony is somehow able to see it anyway, and that’s what propels him to move. Because Steve, disappointed? Fucking unacceptable.</p><p>Tony steps forward and puts a hand on Steve’s arm. Just a touch, his fingers curled over the strong column of muscle and holding on. It’s apparently Steve’s turn to inhale sharply. His blue eyes drop to Tony’s hand, and dazedly follow the motion as Tony slides his palm up along the inside of Steve’s elbow, over a bicep, and coming to rest just below his shoulder.</p><p>Steve relaxes in a beautiful wave of movement. His mouth opens on a sigh, which turns into a relieved smile.</p><p>Tony’s not encroaching. He <em>hasn’t been</em> encroaching. Tony’s mistake hadn’t been in pushing too hard; it had been in not seeing that Steve wanted it, too, and perhaps just not known how to ask for it.</p><p>“Missed me, huh?” Tony ventures.</p><p>Steve nods. He moves, with more awkwardness that Tony’s ever seen in him, to set a hand on Tony’s waist. He leans in, almost nervously, and presses his temple against Tony’s. The intimacy of it takes Tony’s breath away. This is right, and perfect, and not scary at all. “Very much,” Steve whispers.</p><p>“Okay,” Tony says quietly. He turns his face a little, just testing, and smiles when Steve completes the motion to kiss him.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>
  <a href="https://no-gorms.tumblr.com/post/623486948087070720/hello-i-adore-your-stevetony-characterization-so">Tumblr post!</a>
</p></blockquote></div></div>
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